


Least Of All

by leiascully



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-18
Updated: 2005-09-18
Packaged: 2017-10-03 07:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If she had lived another life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Least Of All

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: "Requiem"  
> A/N: I like Marita quite a bit.  
> Disclaimer: _The X-Files_ and all related characters are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Studios. No profit is made from this and no infringement is intended.

Marita lowered her eyes as Mulder rushed out after Scully. She studied the map from under her lashes and thought about what she would be doing if she weren't here. If she had lived another life. It was a common thought pattern these days. In another life, she and Scully might have been dallying earlier over a long lunch and making plans to meet after mass. She had always liked Scully, had admired the way the woman had grown into her job. Both of their social lives were handicapped by the boys' club world they moved in; it would have been nice to have some female companionship as counterpoint to all these men. She surveyed the group around her: hunted, haunted men to the last. There was no love here for her, not even civil conversation. She didn't know how to speak in unencoded terms now. Her polish was ground into her. She couldn't wear sweatpants anymore, either. It was out of keeping.

In another life, maybe she and Scully would have been lovers. Scully was lovely, after all, made up of enviable curves and breasts surprising in a woman so small. Marita daydreamed from time to time about slipping underneath that icy exterior and teasing moans from that elegant white throat. She thought of how Scully's bright hair would look disheveled from tossing on a crisp white pillow. Even in fantasies she retained some of the acquired refinement: the pillow cases and sheets were all 500 count.

There was of course Mulder, handsome and brilliant, but Scully was all that plus reliable, and her insanity was limited to the depth of her devotion to Mulder, with whom she was still out in the hall. Marita flushed, tidying her mind of piles of discarded clothing. No, even in another life, Mulder and Scully would probably manage to find each other and she would be here, alone.

Maybe in another life, Alex wouldn't betray her. She listened to him talk, clinically detached from her desire for him. Maybe they would have had sex in a bed instead of a series of corridors, closets, chairs, desks. On the other hand, maybe she would have a peaceful life in the suburbs, a blissfully boring husband, a golden retriever, a couple of children. A life where she wouldn't have to be a Hitchcock blonde; she'd wear old t-shirts on the weekends, cardigans to an uneventful job, and sometimes she'd let her hair get greasy and run errands wearing jeans and a Georgetown sweatshirt, no makeup but dull unflavoured chapstick.

Idle speculation would get her nowhere. Marita shifted on her heels and paid attention to the unkempt man in the leather jacket. This was her life. At least in the evening there would be Alex and the shower, the water turned on full to mask the slippery sounds of skin and her quiet whimpers. At least in the morning there would be cool clean suits to wear and the practiced grace of high heels. She was used to least by now.


End file.
